


Rebel Without A Cause

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [114]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Ancient Devices, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for De-Aging prompt: <i>Any, any, the most boring person de-aged is the most out-of-control child.</i></p>
<p>In which John's day starts out with <i>we have a problem</i> and goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebel Without A Cause

_Colonel, we have a problem._

John hated those words. Hated them with a passion. And with good reason, considering the sullen-looking teenager scowling back at him through the bars of the holding cell.

“I repeat. Who are you, and how did you get on this base?”

The kid flipped him the bird.

“Okay. So probably not a local.” And it was impossible that a kid from Earth would just have wandered into the city, unless he’d stowed away for the trip back to Pegasus from San Francisco. John thumbed his earpiece. “Sheppard to Command. Chuck, are all life signs accounted for?”

_Everyone but Major Teldy’s team, which is offworld._

“Any additional life signs?”

_No, Colonel._

“Right.” John sighed. He looked at the kid, who had his hair greased back like some kind of Elvis wannabe, too-big blue jeans rolled at the cuffs. There was something vaguely familiar about his face, but John couldn’t quite nail it down. “If you want to get out of that cell, you need to tell me who you are.”

This time he got a double bird for his efforts.

John exchanged a look with Lorne, who merely raised his eyebrows.

“Or we can just leave you here, all alone, until you’re ready to talk to us.”

That got the kid to open his mouth, and John’s eyes widened. He recognized that voice, even though it was lacking the deeper intonation it would one day have.

“Let me clue you in,” the kid said with a sneer. “You fascists try any of that brainwashing shit on me, my father will own your ass.”

“ _Richard_?”

“If you know my name, you know the Judge. And he’s gonna know I didn’t give my consent for this acid test.”

“Right. Sheppard to McKay. We have a situation.”

_I don’t have time for a situation._

“Make time. Any of your science nerds find an Ancient machine that…uh…de-ages someone?”

There was silence on the line for a long moment.

“McKay?”

_Is this hypothetical or –_

“Very much not a hypothetical.”

_We haven’t found anything that fits that description, or even close to it. Who got de-aged? Please tell me it’s Ronon._

John rolled his eyes. “We’re down in the holding cells. I’d rather not broadcast this, if you don’t mind.”

_On my way._

“Dr. McKay will find a way to fix this,” Lorne said confidently. 

John wished he could be as certain. They’d run into a lot of weird stuff in the Pegasus galaxy, but having the expedition leader turned into an angry teenager was new. And potentially problematic, since he didn’t seem to know where he was.

“Richard. Can you tell me how you got here?”

“Fuck off.”

John took a deep breath and counted to ten. He reminded himself that the snot-nosed kid in front of him would one day become Richard Woolsey, a quiet and dignified man who enjoyed wine and fine cigars and adherence to the rules. The story of how he’d made the transition from teenage hood to accomplished adult must be an epic.

Rodney appeared on the scene in record time, and he only needed to take one look at the kid to identify him.

“Woolsey? How the hell did _that_ happen?”

“Ask Brando,” John replied, gesturing towards the holding cell.

“What did you touch?” Rodney asked Richard. “I need you to be as detailed as possible.”

More rude gestures, though for some reason that made McKay almost gleeful. “He doesn’t know where he is, does he? Hey, kid, what year do you think it is?”

“The year my dad nails your fucking ass to the wall,” Richard snapped. But for the first time John could see the fear behind the sass.

“It’s 2007,” Rodney said.

All the blood drained out of Richard’s face. “What? No it isn’t. It’s 1969.”

“’69, huh? I’d have pictured you more of a beatnik than a greaser. Working the whole rebel without a cause shtick a decade too late, aren’t you?”

“This is all just some mind trip,” Richard said. He crossed his arms. “Go fuck yourself.”

“He’s got a dirty mouth,” Rodney observed. “Remind me to get a copy of the security footage.”

“McKay.”

“Fine. I’ll try to figure out what Woolsey came in contact with that changed him.”

“Figure it out fast,” John said, trying not to sound too desperate. “And be careful. I don’t need a teenage version of you running around, too.”

“You should be so lucky,” Rodney replied with a smirk.

John rubbed a hand over his face. It was going to be a long day.


End file.
